


Like the Ocean Needs the Stream

by greysynonyms



Category: One Piece
Genre: And she may or may not tease Paulie a lot later, Angst, Because teasing Paulie is the best, Biting, Blood, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, Devil Fruits, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Franky Family, Galley La, Love Triangles, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Original character for exposition purposes only, POV Second Person, Pining, She's like a good friend of the reader, Succubus, The reader is an unnamed entity that needs energy to survive, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Violence, Water 7, kind of, rated mature for later scenes, so much pining, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2018-12-29 19:51:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12092214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greysynonyms/pseuds/greysynonyms
Summary: You grew up on Scrap Island with three incredible shipwrights, but you harbor a major secret. Now Tom is gone and your relationship with Franky is on the rocks after he vanished for four years. You want to tell him your secret, but you fear it might destroy the what remaining bond you have left. Follows the story-line of the Galley La/Water 7 Arc.





	1. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introduction stuff! Enjoy <3

       “Hello? Earth to (y/n)?” Franky waved his massive hand in front of your face. It _looked_ like you were staring directly at the mechanic appendage, but the dazed look in your eyes told him differently. He tried snapping, tried aiming the chambers built into his left arm at you, but still he received no response. It wasn’t until he crouched down and placed his face right in your line of vision that he got any indication that you weren’t actually in some sort of coma.

       It was his nose, all boxy and metal, that came into focus first; then came the thick layer of lashes that lined his bottom eyelids, the giant, electric-blue sideburns, the pointed chin, and finally the pompadour. You jumped back, startled. “Jesus, Franky! You scared the hell out of me!”

       The cyborg stood straight, raising an eyebrow down at you from his ridiculous height. “You seriously _just_ noticed me?”

       You blanked. “What? How long have you been there?”

       “The better question is: why are you dazing off when you’re supposed to be helping dismantle this ship? If you’re here for any reason other than that, leave.” He frowned at you like an adult would a child. He knew he was probably just taking his frustrations out on you, after all the ship he was trying to dismantle had been giving him nothing but hell since he started on it, but the entire reason he came to the hideout was to be alone. It wasn’t his fault your idiot self had followed him there.

       You huffed dramatically, “Oh, c’mon Franky! I ain’t hurtin’ anybody! I’m jus’ doin’ me!”

       “The last time you dazed like that I turned my back and you disappeared for two days! You had the whole family worrying about you, (y/n)!” He grimaced at your words then, as if they’d just registered in his head. “Have you been hanging out at the bar too much again?” He grabbed your cheeks between two large fingers, “Quit talking like that.”

       You swatted his hands away, annoyed. “How about you quit acting like my mom? I’m only two years younger than you, y’know.”

       Franky shook his head and sighed. He hated when he actually had to act the part of the older person, regardless of the fact that he was literally older than you. He had known you for a long time, ever since he had found you when you were just a young brat on that trash-heap Scrap Island all those years ago, abandoned just like him. At first he hadn’t known what to do with a small child and had chosen just to ignore you, but he eventually found use in letting you tag along to find the parts he needed to build his weapons. “I practically _was_ your mom after I found you,” he muttered under his breath.

       “What kinda mom uses their kid for _manual labor?_ ” you retaliated right away. “You were the shitty big brother back then just like you’re the shitty big brother now.” You crossed your arms over your chest and stuck your nose in the air defiantly. Of course that wasn’t how you actually felt about Franky—no, the way you actually felt about the man in front of you fell into dangerous territory. You respected him above anything else, respected the way he gave up a good reputation with the people of Water 7 in order to save the thugs on the streets who only ever wanted a home. And truthfully, he _had_ taken care of you in the years before you’d found Tom, but right now you were too irritated by his attitude to play nice.

       Franky’s eyes hardened, his shoulders stiff from the accusation. Admittedly, he could’ve done more for you than making you work for him while he was barely able to feed or clothe himself. But, he supposed, you _had_ grown up with him and Iceburg and compared to Ice-for-Brains, Franky would definitely come off as the shittier brother. He just hadn’t known you’d felt so strongly about it. “Get back to work,” he spoke lowly, stomping away from you angrily.

       You inhaled an angry breath through your teeth, narrowing your eyes at the back of the tall man’s head. You hated when he acted like he was the boss of you simply because you chose to live with the rest of the Franky Family. You knew that he was just upset over the ship—it not coming apart as easily as he had anticipated, things not going as smoothly as he had hoped, not receiving enough money for the hours he was putting in—but you hadn’t even forgiven him for the four years he’d gone missing yet; you weren’t sure you could ever forgive him for the hole it had created in your heart. “You know what, Franky!?” you shouted at the wide expanse of his back, the patterns on his Hawaiian shirt growing smaller as he continued to stalk away from you. You were ready to give the man a piece of your mind despite the consequences, but just as the first words were about to leave your mouth the door to Franky’s hideout was thrown open.

       That caught the blue-haired man’s attention and he quickly spun around to find a winded Zambai standing in the doorway. “Goddammit, why does everyone know where my hideout is?!” he shouted, childish spirit showing in the way that he stomped his foot a few times.

       “Sorry, bro!” Zambai immediately apologized, bowing his head. “I didn’t know it was s’posed to be a secret!” he reasoned, which only served to frustrate Franky further. Zambai noticed the way his bro’s eyebrow twitched and flinched. “Sorry!” he said again quickly. “I just wanted to come here to tell ya’ that you gotta come back to the Franky House, bro! You’re not gonna believe what we jus’ got!”

       You raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about, Zambai?”

       The black-haired man’s gaze snapped to you as though he hadn’t realized you were there. “Oh, sis! Uh, it’s uh, y’know, it’s kinda something I think bro should see—”

       “What the hell did you idiots do this time?” you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed.

       “It’s not—we didn’t—aw, sis, c’mon! It’s really just something bro needs to come check out, alright? Promise we didn’t get into any trouble!”

       You narrowed your eyes as Franky shot you a look that had you holding your tongue. You watched as he approached Zambai and they exchanged words too quiet for you to hear. Whatever was going on, you could just tell it wasn’t good.

       “(y/n), I’ve got somewhere to be,” Franky’s voice shook you from your thoughts. “If you’re not going to work you’d better be gone when I get back.” There was a sour note to his tone that made it perfectly clear that your little argument wasn’t over yet.

       You watched them leave together and hung back, deciding on following them and seeing what was going on for yourself when the loud rumble of your stomach brought you back to what your mind had been on before you’d been so rudely interrupted in the first place—it couldn’t wait, even if it meant leaving Franky and Zambai and the rest of the gang to their mischief for the night. You needed to find Iceburg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this story in response to the lack of Franky and Iceburg fics I was able to find and it quickly became one of my favorite stories. I loved the Water 7 arc so much.


	2. Rendezvous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find Iceburg and sate your hunger. For now.

       You approached Dock One, the big gate that led into the yards of the Galley-La Company, at a leisurely pace. Once there you leaned your arms against the fence and smiled at a few of the nearby workers and passersby, smile edging on something akin to a smirk when their eyes lingered longer than necessary for a simple greeting. After finding out that Iceberg was busy attending meetings (that he had _no doubt_ been putting off for weeks), you had managed to stave off your hunger and pass most of the day by helping out Blueno at the bar; you had been a part-timer there for a little over two months now and had managed to keep it a secret from Franky and the rest of the family. It was dusk now, just about time for the workers to be finishing up for the day. You tried to ignore all the stares you received from the foremen but sometimes couldn’t help playing along by giving little waves and nods, laughing at the flustered men who acted like they’d never seen a woman before. 

       You spotted the long-nosed foreman, Kaku, chiseling away at a massive piece of wood near the edge of of the work-yard. You raised your arms high in the air to wave, hoping to catch his attention.

       When he finally noticed you the redhead set his tools down and wiped his brow, approaching the fence where you stood waiting patiently behind it. “Hey little missy,” he greeted you with a charming smile, his eyes twinkling some from under the rim of his hat. 

       You groaned, “For the thousandth time, Kaku, I’m not little. You’re just a bully.”

       He grinned at you. “That you aren’t, that you aren’t… But you are still shorter than me. And if you think that this is bullying then you’ve got another thing coming, sweetheart,” he teased. When you just rolled your eyes at him he chuckled. “What brings you to the company grounds, you rapscallion? Not here to cause any trouble, I hope. You know Paulie would have a fit if he saw you.” 

       You put your hand to your chest in feigned offense. “Well I never. What a rude accusation you make of me, Mr. Foreman. You know that I’d never come here with any intent to—”

       “What kind of no-good, inappropriate—”

       “Speak of the devil and he shall arrive,” you muttered below your breath. “Let me guess,  _ scandalous _ ?”

       “—scandalous outfit are you wearing this time, woman?!” By the time he had finished his shouted question Paulie was standing right against the fence, glaring down at you. “And  _ you! _ ” he whipped his head to the side, locking his gaze on a few workers that he had caught with wandering eyes. “Get back to work! You too!” he yelled at Kaku.

       You crossed your arms over your chest and waited until he caught his breath before addressing him. “Nice to see you too, Paulie.” You briefly glanced down at what you were wearing, just a crop-top, with grease stains from the dismantling you’d done earlier and some wine stains from the bar, and a pair of high-waisted shorts with suspenders. You shrugged and met his fiery gaze. “I think I look fine.”

       “You’re distracting my workers again, you harlot,” the blonde man spoke around the cigar that hung from his lips. “If you’ve got business here then put on some decent clothing first!”

       “But Paulie, I just came to see _you_ ,” you batted your eyelashes at him, trying to get him extra riled up just for the hell of it. You snickered internally at your success when his cheeks turned pink. “Is that so wrong?” you kept up the innocent façade, leaning closer to him.

       “Damn woman,” he scoffed, turning his head away. “Tell me why you’re really here, brat,” he pressed you for an answer without meeting your eyes.

       “ _ Nma _ , I could guess the answer to that,” a familiar deep voice answered. Iceburg, the mayor of Water 7, approached the scene with Kalifa at his side, looking as prim and proper as ever in his pin-striped suit. 

       “I’m here to see him,” you answered the question anyway, turning away from Paulie to face the purple-haired man. “You busy?”

       “Hey!” Paulie had no hesitation in bopping you on the head with his closed fist. “That’s the mayor you’re talking to! Show a little respect, you harlot!”

       Iceburg smiled fondly as he watched you bicker back and forth. “Kalifa,” he spoke to his secretary. “Do I have any meetings scheduled for the rest of the day?”

       The blonde woman flipped through a small pocket-book shortly. “A meeting with the Judicial Branch in one hour, sir. Nothing otherwise.” She snapped the book closed and pushed up her glasses.

       “Well… I don’t wanna do that,” the mayor responded childishly. “I’m not going. Cancel it.”

       Kalifa sighed and reopened the book just to scratch out the penciled-in meeting time. “That will make this the third time this week you’ve turned them away. If I may ask, why is it that they keep pestering you?”

       “They think I have something that they want,” Iceburg answered with a finality that signaled the end of that conversation. “ _Nma_ , Kalifa, you may have the rest of the night off. I promised (y/n) here that I’d get some drinks with her at the bar tonight.” He turned towards you then. “If you wouldn’t mind tagging along, I’ve got a few more pieces of paperwork to handle before we head to the bar.”

       You raised an eyebrow at the lie, so blatant to you and so undetectable to everyone else. “Are you sure you want to cancel another meeting?” you asked, feigning your innocence to keep up the charade. “I wasn’t aware that you had business tonight.” The way Iceburg’s dark eyes flashed made you swallow a little too hard.

       “Old friends are more important than any government representative trying to con me out of something I don’t have,” he answered smoothly. “Besides, Kalifa always reschedules it anyway.”

       “Turning them away again and again will only increase their suspicions towards you,” Kalifa tutted, but didn’t press the issue further. 

       “She’s right,” you nodded. “They’re going to mistake your laziness for thinking you’re hiding something.” 

       “Quiet, you!” Paulie scolded immediately.  

       You flashed him a sly grin, then turned to face the mayor. “Well, now that I have you  _ all to myself _ ,” your voice dipped lower just for a moment before pitching back up, “lets hurry and get that _paperwork_ finished so I can get drunk and you can walk me home!” You laughed at your own words even as Paulie turned to point an angry finger into your face and tell you how much of a troublemaker you were for distracting Iceburg so much. You ignored him. “Toodles, everyone!” You waved to Kaku, who had long since gone back to work, then to Kalifa. “Bye  _ Paulie _ ,” you waggled your fingers almost suggestively at him just for the fun of it, giggling when the blush that had vanished from his cheeks sprang back to life. You looped your hand through the curve of Iceburg’s elbow, firmly gripping his bicep as you walked away from the working grounds. 

 

       You could feel your throat burning by the time you reached the hallway to Iceburg’s office, a deep ache settling in the pit of your stomach as you neared the doors. “Move faster,” you urged, pushing against the tall man’s back in an attempt to make him pick up the pace.

       “Patience is a virtue,  _ nma, _ ” Iceburg chimed, pulling out his keys and unlocking the doors in such a casual, unhurried manor that you could have sworn he was  _ trying _ to test your patience then and there.

       “You know I’ve never been patient.” You had his large frame pressed against the door just as soon as it closed behind you. Your nimble fingers pulled insistently at the top few buttons of his pin-striped shirt and you weren’t satisfied until the first three were undone, leaving the lines of his collarbones and chest exposed to the open air. Your fingers gripped the collar of his shirt and then you yanked him down.

       Iceburg couldn’t help the gasp that passed through his lips when your teeth sank into his neck. It was a familiar feeling, the quick burst of pain followed by the faint pull as you drew his blood into your mouth, but the rush of arousal that accompanied it was always staggering. 

       It was soon after Tom had found you and Franky that Iceburg learned what you were. To this day he wasn’t exactly sure what to call you—some sort of creature that fed off the energy of others. When you were young you had told him that you’d been leeching energy from the townsfolk for the first few years that you and Franky were alone on that trash-heap of an island, and even before that when you’d been by yourself. It had been easy for you to take the energy from the people who had shunned you for what you were; it had been different with Franky, the first person to show you any fraction of affection. You’d been careful around Franky for years, but you hadn’t been so stealthy with Iceburg. No, the very night that you had met you cornered him with your small body and bit into his neck like some kind of wild animal, not explaining until later that blood was one of the richest and most potent forms of energy in the world and that you needed it to survive. When you were seventeen you taught him that the other, even richer form was obtained only through _ intimate  _ physical contact.

       The tall man let out a shuddering breath when he felt your teeth slip away from his flesh, and then he was shoving you towards his desk, his mouth hard on yours.

       You sunk your fingers into his hair, his blood mingling like fresh copper between your tongues. You felt your back hit his desk but you were too focused on the way he was devouring you with both his mouth and body to care. He lifted you easily, like you were nothing but a feather in his hands, so that you were seated on the wooden surface and he was nestled between your legs with his hips slanted against your own. A breathy moan shuddered past your lips as he gave his hips a short, experimental roll and his cold hands found the bare skin of your waist.

       Iceburg traced his hands down the length of your body slowly. “You’re tense,” he spoke into the thick air that hung between you. “Is something wrong?”

       In turn you tilted your head back and laughed. “Leave it to you to point out something like that at a time like this.” You balled your hand into a fist at the roots of his hair and pulled him down again so that you could lick the remaining traces of blood off his skin, then looped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer in search of the friction he had given you only a small taste of.

       Once you loosened your grip on his hair he allowed his forehead to press against yours, his dark eyes boring into your own. “I’m not mistaken then, something is wrong.”

       You sighed and untangled yourself from around him, licking your lips clean—you knew that that would be all the energy you’d be taking from the man for the night. “Franky and I shared a few harsh words before I came over,” you explained. “That’s all.”

       Iceburg stood straight and adjusted his shirt the best he could. “Harsh words from you are never good to be on the receiving end of,” he said, remembering well several of the times you’d exploded on him back in the day. “What did that idiot Flunky say this time, _nma?_ ” 

       You pulled the ponytail from your hair and ran your hand through it, moving to stand in front of the large window at the back of the room. Hearing the old nickname Iceburg used to call Franky, hearing Iceburg speak in general, especially when he used that strange little quirk of his, helped calm you down. It brought you back to when everything was peaceful and everyone was together; you missed that time. “It’s what  _ I _ said that’s bothering me,” you said softly, more to yourself than him.

       He stared at you, your silhouette framed in the moonlight. He had known you almost his entire life and still he couldn’t get a read on what you were thinking—he wondered if that was part of the charm of whatever you were, a vampire, a demon, a _ temptress _ . Whatever you were, you had him wrapped around your little finger. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he heard the shattering of the window before he recognized what was happening.

       “You were supposed to be alone,” a deep voice spoke.

       Iceburg felt his eyes widening as he stared at the masked figure in the spot where you had just stood seconds ago. “What did you do?!” he roared, rushing forward. There was a loud bang, a searing pain burning through his chest as he was shot, and then another and another until five bullets had torn their way through his flesh. He reached helplessly towards the window, towards the two figures in his way. One stared back at him with eyes he’d recognize anywhere, their brilliant blue shining out from under the shadow of the hood. “Nico…Robin…” he called out weakly, and then the darkness took him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the reader isn't a vampire or really a succubus either? I'm not really sure how to properly explain it, except that the reader feeds off the life-force of other people. I'm just rolling with it.


	3. Bitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Franky is venting his frustration into dismantling when something he doesn't recognize anymore finds him.

       It was late in the night and Franky was still tearing pieces off the latest ship, too worried and, more importantly, aggravated to even think about sleep. “That damned idiot,” he cursed, roughly ripping away a piece of the stern, the wood splintering under the harsh grip of his fingers. “Just who in the hell does she think she is running off like this again?”

       If he were being honest with himself there were many things about you that annoyed him to no end; he couldn’t stand the way you always challenged him and talked back to him in front of the others, he couldn’t stand the way you were somehow _always_ right about his bad decisions, and he definitely couldn’t stand the way you were always so secretive about everything. You’d think after knowing someone practically their entire life that you’d know just about everything about that person, but no, you had somehow managed to keep your elusive ways about you since day one. He wasn’t even sure how to approach the subject with you; he’d been trying for years and had never once succeeded in learning anything new about you.

       “ _Dammit_!” he cursed loudly, throwing down his tools; there was no way he could work with how frustrated he felt. Today should have been a good day. Zambai and the rest of the family had gotten their hands on 200,000,000 beli, enough money for them to party and buy anything they could ever dream of, and yet here he was in his hideout, too angry to do anything. If only that damn airhead hadn’t ruined his good mood before the day had even really begun.

       The bang of the door opening brought him back from his wandering thoughts. His eyes narrowed and he dropped his sunglasses to his nose as he stood. Only a small handful of people knew of the super-secret hideout he was currently using to dismantle the ship and most of them should have been sleeping. He readied his strong-right just in case he needed to take out a naïve bandit, but the sight at the back entrance had him stopping in his tracks.

       It _looked_ like you. It was the eyes that were off, not their usual bright color but instead an alarmingly deep red. Not to mention that the look you were giving him literally sent a chill crawling up his spine. “(y/n),” he called to you cautiously, his senses screaming at him not to move an inch. His sharp eyes followed the line of blood that trickled from your mouth, down your chin and neck until it disappeared beneath the line of your shirt. He followed the curves of your arms that were scratched and bruised, and then his breath caught in his throat. There was a hole about an inch-and-a-half in diameter going straight through your stomach. The blood had soaked the entirety of your shorts and was seeping down your legs in dark rivulets. He took two staggered steps forward, at a loss of words, his eyes bulging behind his sunglasses.

       You pounced at him the second he moved, your body hurtling towards him at lightning speed and knocking him off balance. Once you had him on the ground you took hold of his shoulders with a grip stronger than steel, easily flipping him onto his stomach.

       Franky struggled against you. “(y/n)! (y/n), what the hell are you doing?!” he shouted. He could feel the balls of your feet digging into his lower back—you were crouching on him to keep him pinned. He tried to lift his head but the second he had it an inch off the ground you slammed him back down, keeping your hand tight against his scalp to prevent it from happening again.

       He had no idea what was going on; all he knew was that the wound you had should have been fatal. That and the fact that he now had  _something_ sitting directly on top of his only weak point. He had to come up with a plan, something he could do without injuring you any further. Before he could start devising anything you yanked at the collar of his shirt, exposing the flesh of his shoulder, and bit him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really short, buuuuut I still like it. Hope you do too!


	4. Candy Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little heart-to-heart with our favorite cyborg.

       You blinked groggily as you awoke. Your body was aching everywhere, your muscles tense and straining. You sat up slowly, looking around at the familiar surroundings and trying to figure out how you had gotten to Franky’s hideout. The last thing you remembered…

       “Oh, you’re finally awake?” came a weakly asked question from behind you.

       As soon as you spun around terror clutched at your chest and squeezed so tight it was difficult to breathe. Franky was lying belly-down on the floor like a ragdoll, the only indication that he was alive at all being the question he’d just asked. His Hawaiian shirt was in tatters and angry red bite marks that were caked with dried blood covered the expanse of his back and thighs. Your hands quivered as you approached him on your knees, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. “Franky, I…I didn’t…”

       “Glad to see you’re at least back to normal.” He actually had the audacity to chuckle. “How are you, how’s your stomach?”

       “My stomach?” you blinked, looking down at yourself and only finding a smooth, circular scar just above your bellybutton. “I’m fine,” you assured.

       “Oh good. I was getting worried there for a while. After you finished snacking on me you went over there and passed out; I wasn’t sure that you were going to wake up again.”

       Tears fell down your cheeks, padding softly to the skin of Franky’s back and mingling bitterly with the blood there. “Franky…what happened last night?”

       “I was hoping you could tell me that, but it doesn’t seem like you remember much of anything. You walked in here with a massive hole in your stomach. I thought…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, his throat constricting around the words he wanted to say.

       “I’m sorry, I don’t…” you swallowed hard, doing your best to talk through the tears, “I don’t even remember how I got here. I don’t know what happened.” That wasn’t entirely true--even if you couldn’t remember it, you had a pretty good idea of why you’d bitten him, but he didn’t need to be privy to that information just yet. You were still hoping beyond hope that this was all some sort of horrible nightmare. “How could I have done this?” you sobbed into your hands. “How could I have let it get so out of hand?”

       “Hey, it wasn’t anything this _super_ guy couldn’t handle! I’m still alive anyway, so what’s the big deal?”

       “Just, just stay still,” your voice shook as you instructed him. “I’m going to go get something to clean you up.” You had no idea how Franky was reacting so calmly to this—part of you feared that he would freak out, kick you out, as soon as he was able to move again. That thought hurt your chest more than you thought it would, but, at this point, you deserved at least that. From the very beginning you had never had any intention of letting Franky know what you were; you were too dangerous, and he was all you had. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him, it was that you didn’t trust yourself. You didn’t trust yourself not to feed directly from him if he knew, and you didn’t think you could stand that same look of disgust you’d received so many times in the past on his face. You hadn’t even planned to tell Iceburg, but there was a fierceness in his eyes that had instantly stirred your blood and you hadn’t been able to help yourself from tasting his energy. After that first night the two of you had agreed to a routine so that you would never have to hurt anyone else, so that you’d never be tempted to attack the person who had saved your life.

       You wet a cloth that you had found laying around somewhere in the back of the shop with warm water and used it to start cleaning the blood off Franky’s back. You had also grabbed him an extra shirt to use for a pillow while you worked. You dabbed gently around the deep bite marks, wincing as the defined shape of your teeth were revealed each time you cleaned a wound. You still couldn’t remember what had happened last night, but it must have been bad for you to get this out of control. You had attacked people in the past, back in those years before Franky had found you, but you always remembered it and it had never been anything like this. “H-Hey, Franky? I didn’t do anything else to you…did I?” You closed your eyes tight, fearing the answer.

       “You mean besides making me your personal buffet? Nah. Why?”

       You inhaled slowly. “Well…I can—there are…” You paused to compose yourself, focusing on cleaning his wounds rather than what you were about to tell him. “There are different ways I can take energy from someone,” you said quietly.

       “Energy? Is that what you were taking? Because it sure seemed like blood to me.”

       “Blood is the energy of life, so to speak,” you replied nervously. “It’s one of the quickest methods of getting potent energy into the body.”

       “So you’re…a vampire?”

       You swallowed thickly as you finished dabbing away the last of the dried blood. “No, I wouldn’t say that.”

       Franky did his best to turn his head towards you. “What are you then?”

       “The best guess I have is some sort of demon,” you answered, just barely loud enough for him to hear. “At least, that’s what everyone always called me as a child. I don’t know what I technically am, or how I am it, or anything about myself, really.” Your voice had gotten even softer, sadder. “My parents abandoned me before I could ever ask them about it. I think they must have been the same as me, at least one of them must have been, but they just weren’t ready for a baby. Most pirates aren’t, I think.”

       The way you tried to reason away your abandonment caused his fists to clench. “You just know that you need energy?” he asked softly. “The same way I need Cola for fuel, I’m assuming. But instead of packing it into your gut you suck it down, got it. Is blood the only way you can get it, because if it is I’m pretty sure you’re actually a vampire.”

       “Intimate physical contact works as well,” you whispered.

       “Did you say physical contact?” he tilted his head. “Like just touching someone?”

       “Not just touching…” You could feel your face heating up as you spoke. “It has to be intimate. Kisses, um, y’know, sex.”

       Franky choked on his own spit and had to cough a few times before he was able to breathe properly. Had he heard that right? Judging by the look on your face he’d definitely heard that right. His eyebrows drew down as he tried to process everything you’d told him; you were some sort of demon and had been the entire time you’d known each other. He always knew that you were secretive, but he didn’t ever think it could have been anything as serious as this. He felt a tingling sensation in his legs, the ache slowly disappearing until the muscles and skin there felt good as new. “Whoa! Are you using some sort of _super_ medicine on me?” he asked, sitting up slowly despite your protesting hands. Once he was able to face your he saw that fresh blood was spilling from a cut on your palm.

       “I can give back energy the same way I can take it,” you explained. “You’ll heal faster this way.”

       He frowned--your face was already too pale. “Don’t you need the energy?” He reached forward and pressed a finger against the new scar on your stomach. “When you showed up last night that hole was going straight through you. There’s no way that’s healed yet.”

       “You’d be surprised.” As you turned to continue healing the marks on his back he caught your wrist, stopping you.

       “Keep the energy, you need it more,” he said forcefully.

       “No, you need it more. You can barely move, Franky. I’ll just get more energy later. Right now, I need to get you feeling better—!” The end of your sentence was cut off, muffled by his lips as he dragged you forward and smashed your mouths together unceremoniously. The kiss ended with a loud pop as you shoved yourself away from him. “What the _hell_ , Franky?!”

       “Well you said kisses, didn’t you?! Sorry for tryin’ to help!”

       You stared at him incredulously. “I said intimate physical contact! There’s nothing intimate about two people smashing their faces together!” You took a deep breath, trying to calm the way your heart was racing and the way your cheeks were slowly turning red.

       Franky frowned, his eyebrows pulling down low over his eyes. He moved towards you slowly, reaching up and threading his fingers through the hair at the back of your head. Carefully, as though you were fragile, he tilted his head and pressed a kiss to your lips.

       You gasped. Franky’s kiss was soft and gentle, so unlike the hard, insistent press of Iceburg’s mouth that you were used to. If Iceburg was ice, frigid until melted by your warm touch, then Franky was fire, his warmth steadily consuming you. He pulled you in close, engulfing your body in his large arms as he pulled you into his lap. His kiss, his energy, it was sweet like candy, like the sugar-filled Cola he fueled himself with, and you hated that you’d taken so much of it from him before without even remembering its taste. You realized with a sudden and painful vivacity that you had always wanted to kiss this man.

       Even after you separated Franky leaned in one last time and gave you a chaste kiss. “Maybe you being a demon won’t be so bad,” he breathed, unable to stop himself from leaning into you once more to press a series of short kisses to your lips. “Because that was _super_.”

       You smiled at him, resting your palms on his shoulders. “You’re taking this remarkably well.”

       “Tom was a fishman and that old drunk is a mermaid. Did you honestly expect me to be surprised that something like demons exist?” he laughed, running his fingers feather-light up and down your sides. “Besides, it’s something pretty big so I understand why you’d keep it a secret from everyone.”

       The guilt that you felt from those words alone shattered your entire world, immediately calming the fluttering feeling you felt in your chest moments before. You went from warm to cold in a flash, your hands subconsciously tightening on his shoulders, and something in your face must have given you away because he frowned deeply.

       “Does someone else already know?” he asked, hitting the nail on the head. If there was one thing you hated about Franky it was that he could read you like an open book when he wanted to. “Is it Old Lady Kokoro?”

       You bit your lip and shook your head. You feared how Franky would react if he found out that it was Iceburg who knew, even more-so if he found out that he’d been your sole source of energy for the past twenty-something years. “Look, Franky…”

       The cyborg’s expression grew unreadable, his entire body tensing up beneath you. He didn’t meet your eyes when he spoke. “How long has he known?”

       “Who are you—?”

       “You know _damn_ well I’m talking about Ice-for-Brains, now tell me how long he’s known.”

       You looked down, unable to muster up the courage to even move from his lap. “A while.”

       “ _How long_?” he hissed, articulating each word carefully.

       “The night I met him,” you whispered. You dared a look up at him only to immediately regret it. Franky looked worse than angry, he looked _hurt_. “Franky, you have to believe me, I always wanted to tell you, I just…”

       “Just what?” He shoved you away from himself, leaving you alone on the cold floor as he stood. “Just liked Iceburg a little more?” If he knew any better he would have let you talk, would have let you try to explain what in the hell you were thinking not telling him when Iceburg had known since the first day. But he couldn’t hear anything around the rush of blood in his ears. He had felt like he was finally making some headway only to have it all dashed away in one fell swoop, and he couldn’t handle it right now.

       “Franky…” You could feel your throat constricting, tears welling in your eyes once more. “Franky, please, please listen to me! This has nothing to do with who I like more, it was about protecting you! I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t—”

       “Save the speech,” he cut you off, pulling his sunglasses into place over his eyes. His chest hurt, he realized; it was tight in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long time and he was quick to turn his face from you when he realized that his eyes were watering behind his shades. He reached down and picked up the spare shirt he’d been using as a pillow and slipped it on. “And don’t worry about healing the rest of these either. I’m heading into town.” He paused at the door, not even turning to look back at you. “You should probably be gone when I get back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooh! It's been a bit, I know, but I really hope you enjoy this chapter because I had a lot of fun writing it c:


	5. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Franky finds out about the Franky House and Iceburg wakes up.

       Franky walked through the streets of Water 7 with Kiwi and Mozu at his sides. He was itching for a rampage—after all, on top of everything with you, he now had to repay Straw Hat for demolishing the Franky House. He went there first, hoping that being with all his bros would help cheer him up, and what he had found were the ruins of his home and his family beaten and bruised. He didn’t say a word as they made their way towards Galley-La, didn’t even flinch at all the nasty words the townsfolk spoke about him as they cleared him a path.

       He wasn’t sure what was upsetting him more: the fact that that damned Straw Hat Luffy had not only destroyed the house but had also beat up all his bros over nothing but some stolen cash (the sum of the cash was of no concern, no amount of money was large enough to warrant smashing another man’s home), or that you had lied to him since he’d met you but had told Iceburg everything like it was nothing. He was pretty sure that he was more hurt than angry about you not telling him, but Franky didn’t _do_ hurt.

       “You’re looking pretty scary there, Franky,” a voice chimed slyly. “Something on your mind?”

       The cyborg turned his head. “Eli,” he acknowledged her with a roll of his eyes. Eli was a good friend of yours, and one of the biggest thorns in Franky’s side when she wanted to be. “I’m not really in the mood.” He hoped that she’d leave him alone with that, but instead she fell into stride next to him. “Did you not hear a word I said?!”

       “Wow, something really is on your mind then. Is it Iceburg?”

       He clenched his jaw when he heard the name. “Just what in the hell are you talking about? What does Ice-for-Brains have to do with anything?” The words were rolling from his tongue without any sort of delay—he wasn’t about to pause and talk about why he was angry with the town’s beloved mayor. “I’m going after Straw Hat. He’s gonna pay for messing with the Franky Family!”

       “You go, bro!” Kiwi and Mozu cheered.

       “Oh, so you haven’t heard then.”

       “Heard what?” he snapped. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her; something was off. He noticed that her steps were a little staggered and unsure, and that her eyes were lidded in a lazy, dazed sort of way. In fact, now that he thought about it, her words had been a bit slurred. “Are you drunk?!” he asked, appalled. He knew that Eli liked to party every now and then—after all, who didn’t?—but even for her it was early.

       “So what if I am?” she asked back defensively. “Now do ‘ya wanna know what’s going on or not?” Normally she would have teased him just a bit longer, if only to see him explode the way he always did when he was angry, but today was different. “Iceburg was attacked last night,” she said solemnly. “I’ve been hearing rumors all over town, but no one is really sure what happened.” She hiccupped and shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly, but it was obvious in the way that she seemed to sober up a little when she told him that she was worried.

       “Attacked?” he echoed the word. “Who would attack Ice-for-Brains? Everyone in this town loves him.”

       The short woman nodded her head thoughtfully. “Thas’ what I’m sayin’! I heard he got shot, but I haven’t heard anything about whether or not he’s okay. The window in his office was all broken out and there was lots of blood everywhere.” She motioned in a large circle around herself as she tried to get her point across, “Like everywhere, all over the sidewalk and stuff.”

       Franky’s brow furrowed. “There was blood outside?”

       “Yeah, it looked like someone had been impaled on a fencepost.” She stretched her arms out above her head. “I wouldn’t’ve believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own two eyes.”

       The cyborg’s heart-rate had quickened, thumping unsteady, nervous beats against his metal ribcage. That would certainly explain why you had a giant hole through your stomach last night, but it sure as hell didn’t explain what was going on. He could feel a thin sheen of sweat blooming on his forehead. He had overreacted and left you alone after you’d gotten an injury that should have killed you; sure he had every right to be upset about you not letting him know what you were for so long (more like not letting him know while simultaneously letting _someone else_ know), but leaving you after something like that was just plain mean. He couldn’t go back now, not after what he’d said to you--he wasn’t even sure you’d still be there. “You know, you’re really good at spreading stupid rumors without having any real information,” he said before Eli noticed his nervousness.

       “Hey, thas’ not a very nice thing to say to (y/n)’s best friend.”

       “Best friend,” he scoffed. “You’re nothing more than a bad influence.”

       Eli grinned, “That’s rich coming from the guy that terrorizes the town on a weekly basis. You’re the one that grew up with her, she learned from you and you’re a way worse influence than I am.”

       Franky growled; while he’d never admit it out loud, she did have a point. You had picked up several of his habits over the years, including the bad ones—of that list, stubbornness was the number one trait he wished time and time again you hadn’t picked up. But hey, you had gotten some of it from Iceburg too: the way you could never drop a project until it was completely perfect, for instance. And he knew for a fact that you’d become more flirty after meeting Eli; the two of you were always hanging around Galley-La, messing with the workers.

       “Aw, Franky, turn that frown upside down,” she spoke in a childish, sing-song sort of way. “You’ll put all kinds of wrinkles in that pretty forehead and (y/n) won’t like that very much.”

       He could feel a blush creeping onto his features. Even though the majority of his body had been rebuilt with iron, the cyborg still couldn’t control stupid things like blood rushing to his face. It pissed him off. “What does she have to do with anything?” he grumbled.

       “Well if you have wrinkles on your wedding day it won’t make for very good pictures,” she replied, snickering to herself mischievously.

       Franky all but choked on his next inhale. “W-Would you just get out of here?!” he shouted angrily at her. “I already told you I’ve got business to settle with Straw Hat, so I don’t have time for you or your stupid games, understand?!”

       “You tell her, bro!” Mozu and Kiwi spoke in unison. “Nobody messes with our family and gets away with it!”

       The cyborg sped up his pace purposefully, pulling the sisters behind him and leaving Eli to, hopefully, get lost in the crowd. His feet carried them right to Galley-La, where a huge crowd of citizens and reporters alike stood outside Dock One. So she hadn’t been kidding about Iceburg then, something really had happened to him. He ignored the feelings that welled in his chest. “Straw Hat’s gotta be somewhere around here,” he muttered to himself. “I think it’s about time I introduce myself in a _super_ flashy way.”

 

       Iceburg awoke to a dull ache that throbbed from his chest into his shoulders and straight down his arms. He didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t want to see what kind of damage had been done to him; whatever had happened he could feel that it was bad. He tried desperately to remember what had happened to him, but the only thing his mind could focus on were the shockwaves of pain that were steadily increasing in intensity as they moved throughout his nervous system. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing more than a groan escaped his lips when he tried to form words. Almost instantly he felt a presence at his side; someone was kneeling beside his bed.

       Paulie felt a rush of relief surge through his veins. He hadn’t known whether or not his boss would wake in a week, in a month, or even at all. Having been shot five times he was honestly surprised Iceburg had survived the night; he hadn’t been able to believe it when Kalifa had run into the hallway to tell them that he had woken up. There was also the matter of the bite mark at the mayor’s neck, but he was so embarrassed even thinking about it that he doubted he would be able to ask the man if his attacker had bit him or if he had been bitten during a…prior engagement. “Iceburg,” he called gently to the man, hoping to relieve whatever worry had created the frown the man now wore.

       The mayor slowly blinked open his eyes to find his blonde apprentice staring at him with an even mixture of happiness, worry, and anger. “Nma, Paulie?” he muttered. His voice sounded quiet and weak, foreign to his own ears. He looked down at himself and noted the bandages that were wrapped securely around the entirety of his stomach and chest. He remembered the gunshots, the intensity of the sound as it rang through his ears and rattled his head, the sensation of fire on his skin when they tore holes through his body. He remembered the cloaked figures and the eyes that had stared down him with something akin to pity swirling in their hues.

       “Do you remember anything about last night?” Paulie asked. “Anything about who may have done this?”

       He nodded his head, “Nma, I know who did it.”

       The blonde blinked. “You know who did it?!” he asked much louder than he had meant to. He winced at the annoyed look Kalifa gave him from behind her glasses. He lowered his volume considerably, “Iceburg, if you know who did this you need to tell me.”

       The purple-haired man turned his head, his gaze lingering on the wanted poster that hung next to his bed. “It was… Nico Robin,” he replied.

       “The woman from the poster? She’s a member of those Straw Hats, isn’t she?” he growled, plucking a cigar from his pocket and lighting it up. He took a deep drag, allowing the thick smoke to fill his mouth and lungs with the rich flavor of tobacco. He had hoped it would do more to calm his nerves, but the rage that he felt was steadily building in his gut. They had all been too quick to trust that group of troublemaking pirates, and now they were paying for it. He stood up straight. “I’m gonna tell the guys. We’ll make those pirates pay for making fools out of us.”

       Iceburg gave a slow nod of understanding. While he didn’t want to believe that the kind kids he had spoken to merely days before would ever do something like this, it was undeniable that Nico Robin was a member of their crew. He wondered if they even knew about the treachery that surrounded the woman. He suddenly remembered the sound of a window as it shattered to pieces. “Where’s (y/n)?” he asked frantically. He attempted to sit up, but the combination of pain and Paulie’s hand firmly in place on his shoulder kept him prone.

       “Don’t worry about her,” Paulie snapped, angry with the man for always worrying about everyone else over himself—what did that stupid girl even have to do with the situation?

       “Paulie,” the mayor gripped his apprentice’s wrist with force enough to surprise both of them. “Find her, please.”

       The blonde felt his eyebrows furrow. “Wasn’t she with you last night before you were shot?” he questioned suspiciously. He was absolutely sure that she was—the two of them had left Dock One together; Iceburg had said something about paperwork before going to the bar. His memories wandered to the window, the image of the blood on the fencepost and sidewalk flashing through his mind. He felt his stomach churn. “Iceburg, did anything else happen that you remember?”

       “They pushed her,” he could barely manage to get the words out.

       Paulie’s next breath was drawn in sharply. “I’ll…try to find her, sir.” He turned and swiftly left the room. _There was no way, there was no way, there was no way_ . If that blood outside was yours there was no doubt you were long dead by now--no one could have survived that drop at all let alone been able to walk away from the scene. Then again, if the attacker ( _Nico Robin_ , he reminded himself, _of the Straw Hat crew_ ) had gone to Iceburg’s office it was likely that they weren’t expecting to find anyone there besides the mayor himself. If you had been pushed out the window as collateral damage then it would stand to reason that they would remove you from the fence post themselves and hide your body somewhere. He felt the palms of his hands begin to sweat. He just needed to find you, hopefully alive.

       “Nma, Kalifa,” Iceburg addressed his secretary after the door closed behind Paulie, his gaze fastened on his bedsheets. “Do you know something?”

       The tall woman adjusted her glasses momentarily. “There was a large amount of blood found outside this morning. It looked as though someone had been impaled on one of the fence posts. The blood trail that led into town indicated that, if that were the case, whoever it was survived, but no body was found so it’s inconclusive,” she explained.

       “If you could please give me a second, Kalifa.”

       She bowed her head in understanding. “I will be just outside the door if you need anything, sir.”

       Once she was gone Iceburg released a shuddering breath. He wished he could get up himself and go search for you, but his wounds would keep him bedridden for who knows how long. He’d seen you stand up after receiving wounds that would put a grown man to his knees but he wasn’t sure you’d be able to so easily walk off something as serious as Kalifa had described. He just hoped that you were alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little chapter to catch up with our boys! I love writing them so much. Also I hope you like Eli, she's just a little side character I added for story exposition, and the next chapter will be mostly Eli and Paulie based as the plot continues to thicken!


	6. Rising Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aqua Laguna is on the way, and people are on the hunt for our dear reader.

       Paulie took the stairs down from the third floor in twos, the rest of the Galley-La workers following along behind him. His cigar was clenched between his teeth so hard he was surprised he hadn’t bit the end of it clean off yet--to say that he was pissed off was an understatement. After he told the rest of the men who had attacked Iceburg they had come to a consensus that they needed to apprehend the rest of the Straw Hat crew before they acted again; no one was sure where they would be, but with a ship in as poor of a condition as theirs it was almost certain that they would still be on the island. Finding you would come after they got the mayor’s attacker, and a possible murderer, off the streets. He knew that Iceburg wouldn't agree, especially after his only request had been for Paulie to find you, but he's sure that if Iceburg was in his right mind he would want his workers to save the citizens from possible danger before searching for you (you who he's not even sure is _alive_ ). The thought, the idea that he would have to tell Iceburg if they found your body, made his chest ache and he drew in enough air to finish off his cigar to try to calm down--when that didn't work he lit up another one instantly. 

       He was livid that he had allowed someone with ill intentions to get close to the mayor so easily. He remembered watching Iceburg work on the Puffing Tom all those years ago; he had watched him build the train that had saved Water 7. He remembered when Iceburg had approached him, an orphan, and given him a home and a job. The man had trained him to become the shipwright he was today—he harbored nothing but respect and admiration for him. The fact that an attempt had been made on his life by someone who he had joked and laughed with only days before boiled his blood.

       Paulie was surprised when he found Eli waiting outside the building doors, leaning casually against the stone wall--he could practically smell the fumes of alcohol rolling from her breath from where he was standing. He stopped in front of her as the rest of the foremen continued out to find the Straw Hats. “Woman, I don’t have time to deal with you right now.”

       She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or not?” She crossed her arms over her chest and pinned him with a stare that had him questioning whether or not she was as drunk as he had originally thought she was.

       “Someone attacked Iceburg,” he answered her lowly; he had dealt with Eli before and he was sure that she wouldn’t let him go anywhere without the information she was looking for.

       “No shit, Paulie, everyone knows that by now. Is he alive?”

       He nodded. “He’s alive.”

       “Who attacked him?”

       “A member of the Straw Hat crew.”

       Eli frowned. She remembered meeting a few members of the crew: a cranky, moss-headed swordsman, a charming albeit perverted chef, a cute little reindeer who had claimed to be a doctor—they hadn’t seemed like the type to try assassinating anyone, let alone the mayor of a town. “Are you sure?”

       “Iceburg identified his assailant himself. We’re going to capture that troublemaking crew before they try anything else stupid.” He took a long drag off his cigar. “That’s why I don’t have time to be standing around here chatting with the likes of you!” As he spoke the smoke spilled from his mouth in thick billows, blowing straight from his lips into her face.

       The short woman simply waved the smoke away with one hand. “You’re probably right,” she nodded at last. “What with Franky being Franky you probably don’t have any time to be standing around.”

       “Franky?” Paulie turned his head, looking over his shoulder just in time to see one of the massive metal towers in the shipyard begin to fall. His eyes widened. “Dammit, woman!” he cursed her even as he took off in a sprint towards the commotion, leaving Eli alone in the street. He paused just before he hopped the fence, Iceburg’s words ringing through his mind. “Oi!” he shouted, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Find that other harlot you always hang around with and bring her to Iceburg, would’ya?!”

       She cocked her head to the side as she watched him disappear from sight, running off into the shipyard to help the other Galley-La workers take down not only the Straw Hats but Franky as well. “(y/n)?” she questioned to herself. Her eyebrows drew down slowly; she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen you, but she knew you were prone to ‘ _visiting_ ’ the mayor late at night...and that meant... “Oh shit,” she breathed. She needed to find you, now.

 

       Eli didn’t know where else to search. She had looked everywhere that you would be on a normal day; obviously you weren’t with Iceburg, and she had looked up and down the entire length of the beach around where the Franky House had once stood. The last place she could think to check would be the bar, but she had been there only hours ago and she knew for a fact that you didn’t work today. “Whatever,” she muttered under her breath, turning and heading in the direction of Blueno’s bar. Her steps were still a little unsure, the alcohol she had consumed earlier leaving her with her vision blurred around the edges, but her adrenaline rush had sobered her up considerably. It was odd enough that you weren’t with either Iceburg or Franky, considering that’s where she always seemed to find you, but you being missing combined with the memory of the blood on the sidewalk was leaving a rotten taste in Eli’s mouth.

       She pushed open the doors to the bar and was greeted by a chorus of ‘hellos’ from the regulars inside. She managed a fake smile and gave some waves but her feet led her straight to the bar without hesitation. “Blueno,” she addressed the large barman with hair that resembled the horns of a cow.

       The man’s deep voice rumbled up from his chest, “Here for another drink, Eli?”

       “Sorry, not this time. Have you seen (y/n) at all today?”

       “Not today, no.” He set down the dish he’d previously been drying and gave her his full attention. “Why, is the girl getting into trouble again?”

       “No, no, I just…haven’t been able to find her,” she answered lamely. “She wasn’t with Franky or Iceburg so I thought I’d try to find her here.”

       “Is everything alright?”

       Eli took a seat atop one of the barstools and put her elbows on the countertop, resting her face in her hands. “Honestly, I’m not sure right now. I’m sure you heard that Iceburg was attacked last night.”

       The tall man nodded, resuming his job of drying the dishes one cup at a time. “They released a paper not long ago warranting the capture of some of those pirates who showed up here a few days ago. It said they’re the ones responsible.”

       She sighed and scrubbed at her tired eyes with the heels of her hands. “I’m not so sure that’s right. I mean, I don’t know.” She huffed in exasperation as she tried to find the words she was looking for. “They don’t really seem like the assassin types, y’know? I guess maybe that ex-pirate-hunter, but the captain just doesn’t strike me as someone who would do something like that, or someone who would let their crew do something like that.”

       While she was busy rubbing her eyes raw Blueno grabbed a small glass and dropped an ice-cube into it, filling it with amber liquor. He set it in front of her, the small clink causing her to blink open her now-red eyes. “It’s on the house.”

       Eli gave the tall man a little smile. “Thank you,” she said, grabbing the glass and polishing off the booze in one big gulp. “Everything that’s happening just has me worried,” she summarized, pushing all her hair out of her face for a brief moment before letting it fall back into place. “Iceburg got shot, the foremen are in some big fight at Galley-La, and now (y/n) has gone missing. It just seems to be one thing going wrong after another.”

       Blueno gave a nod of understanding. “You know better than I that the foremen can handle themselves in a fight,” he assured. “As far as (y/n), you’ll have to let me know when you find her. I hope she’s okay. After all, Aqua Laguna is on its way.”

       Eli froze, her hands tightening around the glass she held. How could she have forgotten about the storm? She remembered thinking that it was getting fairly windy out, but the storm hadn’t even crossed her mind. Aqua Laguna was an annual event that put just about the entire city of Water 7 underwater in a matter of hours; everyone in the lower city had to evacuate or else risk being swept out to sea. She had heard rumors that the storm would be worse this year than in the past—they had even been talking about evacuating most of the upper city. It would arrive tonight at midnight, not very long from now. If you were out there in the city, hurt, you would surely be swept away before you could escape the waves. Eli was already on her feet when she spoke next, “Goddammit, now I really need to find her.”

 

       You used your chopsticks to push around your rice in lazy circles. It wasn’t that the food wasn’t good, you simply weren’t hungry; that and your stomach still ached, the muscles occasionally spasming. The old man who ran the little food-stand where you sat had long since sucked down a bottle of booze and passed out against the side of the ship, leaving you to your own thoughts.

       Franky’s words hadn’t left your head:  _you should probably be gone when I get back._ You and the cyborg had had your fair share of arguments over the years, but you had never seen him so serious before. You hadn’t figured out how to apologize yet, you weren’t even sure you _wanted_ to apologize at this point. Was it wrong of you to keep a secret from him for so long? Probably, yes. Was your reason for doing it wrong? No. Plus he hadn’t even given you the chance to try to explain your reasoning, he’d just assumed the worst and kicked you out. For that, you weren’t happy with him.

       You picked up a small glob of the rice and placed it against your tongue, sighing in content at the delicious flavor that washed over your taste-buds. You had to give it to the old man, the flavor of his food was unique and undeniably delicious every time you had it. You finished your dish slowly, watching the sun set over the horizon and play colors over the ocean waters as you did so. You could feel Aqua Laguna in the air—the temperature dropping, the winds picking up, the yagara all around town beginning to fret. The ocean always seemed to come alive just before the storm, the waves growing steadily in size and force with each passing day. You wondered where you’d stay tonight.

       “Strange that you’re here, wouldn’t you say?”

       You turned your head towards the old man, who was now staring at you with half-lidded eyes after having just woke up. “Excuse me?” you questioned, tilting your head in confusion.

       “Well, y’know, you’re the one who’s always out and about with the mayor now ain’t ya’?”

       You could feel your cheeks heat slightly. “How would you know something like that?”

       He jumped up to his feet and took a big, noisy slurp from his unidentified bottle of alcohol. “Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I’m blind, girly,” he shook his finger in your face, eyes narrowed. “The two of you have shared lunch here a bunch of times!”

       You chewed at your lip. Normally when people saw you they associated you with the Franky Family; it made you nervous for someone to so blatantly associate you with Iceburg. You shook your head. “Why does it matter? I come here for lunch on my own, too,” you tried to wave it off, pushing your empty bowl towards him.

       He took the bowl and carelessly threw it into the small sink behind him. “Well I just figured with,” he hiccupped, “everything going on you’d be there and not here.”

       “Everything going on?” A sharp pain echoed out from the center of your stomach, causing you to gasp and double over. It was like a sick reminder—you had been shoved out a window, you had landed on a fencepost. You squeezed at your stomach, grasping the fabric of your shirt in your fist and nearly tearing holes through it with your nails. You got to your feet and slammed some money on the counter. “Sorry I couldn’t stay longer,” you breathed before spinning on your heel and running in the direction of Galley-La.

       You couldn’t believe you’d forgotten. You could feel tears stinging at your eyes as you ran--you didn’t stop running until you reached Gate One, until your calves were burning and sweat was beading at your brow. You took the stairs up to Iceburg’s room in twos; once you saw the closed doors you practically hurled yourself at them, but were surprised when you were caught by a set of strong arms. You blinked through your tears up at Kaku’s face. In your rush to get inside you hadn’t even noticed that the Galley-La foremen were all standing outside the office.

       “(y/n),” Kaku said, frowning down at you. “What are you doing here, missy? You know you can’t just—”

       “Let her through, Kaku,” a rough voice interrupted. Paulie had just finished making his way up the stairs and immediately grabbed you by the hair, “Do you know how long I’ve spent searching the town for you? Where the hell have you been?”

       “Franky kicked me out, so I…”

       He blew his cigar smoke into your face, effectively stopping you from saying anything more. “Just get in there already, brat.”

       You nodded your head wordlessly and Kaku hesitantly stepped aside, allowing you to open the doors and step into Iceburg’s room.

       “Are you sure that was a good idea, Paulie?” the long-nosed man asked as soon as the doors closed behind you. “Even if they’re friends, Iceburg is still healing--he needs time.”

       “The only thing he asked of me when he woke up this morning was to find her,” Paulie answered, crossing his arms over his chest. “I bet he’s been too busy worrying himself sick all day to get any rest at all.” He had questions sitting heavy in his throat, questions about whether or not Iceburg had actually seen what he thought he had, questions about how you could have possibly survived if it was true. He wanted to tell the others, wanted to talk to you, wanted to get the answers he needed, but he bit his tongue because now wasn't the time--right now he needed to focus on keeping his friends safe. He took a seat in one of the empty chairs outside Iceburg's office and sighed heavily. “Someone should try to find Eli,” he spoke, two parts trying to clear his head and one part genuine concern; when he had last seen her he sent her out after you, but now that you’re here she’d be searching in the middle of Aqua Laguna for someone who wasn’t actually lost. “I’m assuming she’s been out in town searching for (y/n) all day.”

       “Perhaps you should go find her,” Kaku suggested. “I mean, no offense Paulie, but we’re pretty strong--we’ll be able to protect Iceburg should anything happen.”

       Lucci’s expression was stoic. Hattori flapped his wings a little before piping up, “Escort her here when you find her, if it makes you feel better.”

       “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Paulie asked. “If someone attacks…” He could’ve sworn he saw the man’s eyes narrow, if only a fraction of a centimeter.

       “Eli can handle herself,” Hattori reminded. “If it’s too much trouble I’ll go find her myself.”

       “No, no,” he waved his hands. “Kaku’s right, I trust the lot of you to handle things.” He turned and headed for the stairs without another word; he wasn't entirely keen on heading back outside in search of another annoying harlot after spending the majority of his day searching for you, but he knew Eli would stay out all night looking for you if no one went and got her. A chill crept down his spine as he reached the staircase; he could feel a dark gaze boring into the back of his head, but he didn’t dare turn to see what the hell (or _who_ the hell) it was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of exposition right now, but I promise that the next part will get back to the reader and Ice-pops (;
> 
> I love writing all these characters so much, Water 7 was such a good arc, gosh.


	7. Professional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader finally makes it back to Iceburg. Fluff ensues.

       You stepped into Iceburg’s room and shut the door gently behind yourself. You stared at the man where he laid in his bed with his eyes closed. Judging by the fact that the workers hadn’t stopped you, you could at least assume the purple-haired man was alive, but seeing him in the state he was in caused your chest to tighten up. You approached his bedside as quietly as you could and took a seat on the edge of the mattress, then reached forward, running your fingers along the line of a jaw rough with untrimmed stubble. When he didn’t stir you proceeded to card your fingers through his hair, following the strands until they curled at his temple.

       It was unusual to see Iceburg in such a vulnerable state. For as long as you’d known him he’d always been such a strong, hard worker. It was like he never stopped moving: first becoming Tom’s apprentice, then working on the Puffing Tom, and now he was the mayor of the city. He was always dedicated, a little childish, but very serious when it came to finishing his jobs. To see him as anything but his normally animated self was difficult.

       Iceburg’s eyelids fluttered abruptly. His dark eyes widened and locked on yours as soon as he had blinked away the tiredness. “(y/n)?” He sat up, his hands grasping both of your shoulders. “Are you okay?”

       You gave a sad smile. “I should be asking you that.”

       “Nma,” he drawled, looking over you frantically in search of any marks. “Kalifa told me it looked like someone had been impaled outside.”

       You wiggled out of his grasp just enough to lift up your shirt, exposing your stomach and the jagged, circular scar that now rested above your navel. Small bruises that hadn’t been there when you woke up had begun to form around the scar, but you kept that to yourself.

       Iceburg reached forward with tentative fingers, tracing the outline of the scar gently.

       His touch sent of a bolt of what felt like electricity coursing through you and you couldn't help it when your hand shot forward to clutch at his, holding his hand close to your skin. A small sound escaped your lips when his fingers pressed a little harder into your stomach, touch just bordering on pain.

       He moved abruptly, and he felt the protest in each individual wound, but he didn't care because he threaded his fingers through your hair and yanked you down and then your lips were on his. He breathed a sigh of relief at the same time as you did, and he used the opportunity to slip his tongue against yours with a groan. He dragged you as close as he could without injuring himself, and you moved along with him like putty in his hands until you were practically sitting on his lap. 

       You drew away from him with a gasp, irises glowing slightly from the energy you had taken from him--it was so _potent_ , like nothing you had ever tasted before, and as much as you wanted to keep drawing from him you knew he needed it to heal. You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and slid your hands under the blankets and his shirt to rest your palms directly over his bandages, delighting in the deep moan that left his throat. You shook your head, shook away the thoughts and impulses that his moan brought to the surface--right now you needed to get him feeling better. You couldn't help yourself as you lightly scratched your nails against his skin before you subtly began to push the energy back into him.

       Iceburg looked up and met your gaze once more with no small amount of fear in his eyes. “How could you have survived something like that?” he asked breathlessly.

       You pulled away from him completely and yanked down your shirt, then lowered your eyes to the mattress. “I don’t honestly remember much from the night,” you began, “but when I woke up I was with Franky. I must have…attacked him; he was covered in blood and bite marks. I don’t remember it, but I must have fed off him enough that I was able to regenerate the tissue quickly.” The reminder of what had happened left you feeling completely hollow and you moved further from Iceburg, dangling your feet off the edge of the bed.

       The mayor watched as your shoulders began to quiver, your breathing coming out in shaky little bursts.

       You allowed your fist to clench and unclench a few times around the fabric of the comforter. “Obviously Franky wasn’t just going to let me get away without telling him what was going on.” You took a shuddering breath. “He took it really well until he learned how long you’ve known.”

       Iceburg’s dark lips pulled down into a deep frown. That idiot Flunky, of course that’s what he’d be mad about. But then again, even with the situation at hand, he had to admit that he had mixed feelings about the fact that Franky knew, and even more-so about the fact that you’d fed from the cyborg. He pushed those feelings aside and reached out to you, pulling you down so that you were laying your head on his chest and embracing you in his arms.

       You couldn’t deny the way that your heart jumped into your throat, your emotions on the verge of rolling wetly down your cheeks. You placed your arm gently across his middle, taking comfort in the feeling of his arms around you—not that you weren’t familiar with the feeling, but the situation was usually rushed passion, not the soothing strokes he was giving your back now. “What about you?” you asked quietly. “What happened to you after they pushed me?” You weren’t actually sure you were ready to hear the answer to that.

       “Nma, they shot me five times,” the purple-haired man answered, straight-forward as always. He could feel your body stiffen in his arms and he tried to ease your worry by stroking his fingers into your hair. “Nico Robin was behind it,” he informed to change the subject.

       You remembered the name, remembered the wanted poster that Tom had given to the three of you. You remembered how you’d been warned of what Nico Robin’s existence meant, and you remembered vividly the blueprints of Pluton. “Is that really possible?”

       “I’d never forget her eyes,” he responded. “I spoke with the captain of the Straw Hats earlier and he seemed adamant that she would never do something like that, but I know what I saw. I told him that I want to speak with her again.”

       You frowned at the amount of information he had just given you to process. “You spoke with the captain of her crew? How?”

       “He came through the window.”

       Your frown deepened, “Iceburg, you idiot! What if he had wanted to hurt you?!”

       “He didn’t,” the mayor assured seriously. “He only wanted to tell me that Nico Robin wouldn’t do this.” His eyebrows drew down low over his eyes, “He appeared genuine.”

       You sat up, looking down at him with a disbelieving expression. “Are you crazy? Maybe the captain is genuine, but you saw her with your own two eyes. Why would you want to talk to her after she tried to kill you?”

       “Something tells me I wasn’t supposed to die that night,” he answered seriously. He lowered his voice, “If they know that I have the blueprints they’re looking for they’ll need me alive. Nma, I think they were just trying to scare me.”

       “Scaring you by shooting you five times?” You swallowed thickly, “Scaring you by shoving me through a window and almost killing me?” When you saw him flinch you took a deep breath to try calming yourself. “Sorry,” you whispered, settling back against his side and gently tracing the edges of his bandages with your fingertips. “Everything just has me on edge right now.”

       “I need to speak with her again, (y/n), before this all comes to a peak.”

       You ground your teeth together, choosing to stay silent; Iceburg would never listen to you anyway, he was too stubborn. “Just…be careful,” you answered finally. You lifted up the blanket just enough to watch your hand as you slid it over his stomach, your fingers rising and falling over the thicker padding where the actual bullet-holes were located. You moved your fingers over all five of the pads and then sighed and snuggled up closer to him.

       Iceburg traced the ridges of your spine through your shirt. “Are you okay?” he asked softly for the second time that night, but this time for a completely different reason. It wasn’t a question that he asked you often—that was something he’d learned not to do long ago.

       “I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I don’t have anywhere to go anymore.”

       “Stay with me.” The mayor’s cheeks tinted with color as the weight of his words settled in. “Nma… at least for tonight. I’d feel better knowing with my own two eyes that you’re safe.”

       You were hesitant to settle fully by his side; tension still remained deep in your shoulders and back. “What if he doesn’t forgive me?” your voice quivered as you asked, soft and broken. You were surprised by the sudden feel of calloused fingers brushing your hair from your face. A warm palm settled against your cheek and forced you to look up into eyes dark with worry and fear and so many more emotions than you could ever hope to recognize.

       Iceburg leaned forward to place a small kiss against the tip of your nose, hoping that it would, in some way, calm and reassure you. “You have nothing to be forgiven for.”

       You knew that he meant well but you couldn’t forget the look on Franky’s face when he found out what Iceburg knew. You had hurt him, _bad_ , right after he had accepted what you were without even questioning it. Franky was the person who saved you from a cruel world when you were young, he was the person who never failed to put a smile on your face, and now he was one of the only two people who had learned who, _what_ , you were and openly accepted you anyway. You were sure that his expression was one of a broken heart, and you couldn’t blame him; you especially couldn’t blame him after you had so readily accepted his willingness to share his energy.

       You definitely couldn’t bring yourself to confess to the mayor that Franky had kissed you, and not in the way that you and Iceburg kissed either, which was always hurried and strictly professional ( _strictly_ , you reminded yourself even though the kiss to your nose and the warmth of his hand against your cheek was definitely bordering on something dangerously close to unprofessional). Franky had really _kissed_ you and your heart fluttered in your chest just thinking about his gentle touch.

       “(y/n), look at me,” Iceburg pulled your attention back to himself, keen eyes not missing the barest hints of emotions playing across your face as you got lost in thought—your eyes had softened so much at one point that he felt his stomach churn, though he was still having a difficult time admitting to himself why that was. “I promise you that you have done nothing wrong.”

       “You say that, but you didn’t see his face, you didn’t see how hurt he was.”

       “Nma, (y/n), for as long as I’ve known him Franky has always over-exaggerated his emotions. He loves you,” he said, and he wasn’t exactly sure himself how far beyond brotherhood those words extended. “If you want his forgiveness he will give it to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, but I thought it was pretty cutesy and fun to write. The reader is starting to realize that there might be more to her feelings than she originally thought--and Iceburg might be realizing that too! I hope you're all enjoying the story so far!


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